


Challenge Accepted

by Jaune_Chat



Series: Going For The Gold [1]
Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-30
Updated: 2012-05-30
Packaged: 2017-11-06 07:55:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/416536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaune_Chat/pseuds/Jaune_Chat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint challenges Tony's sexual prowess.  He should have known better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Challenge Accepted

**Author's Note:**

> From a [prompt on avengerkink :](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/5102.html?thread=5562606) Clint/Tony smut, and lots of it  
> Tony keeps boasting about his sexual prowess. Clint isn't convinced and tells him as much. So Tony decides to show him.
> 
> Afterwards, Clint is completely and utterly _broken_ in the best way possible and Tony is unbearably smug.

"Twelve for twelve with cover models. I did that at least three times, which is two more times any anyone else I ever knew."

Clint rolled his eyes, not bothering to hide his smirk as he settled further back in the sofa. The awards program droned on in the background, but listening to Tony point out how much better than everyone else that crossed the screen was a hell of a lot more entertaining. Even if he was full of shit.

"Give it a rest, Stark. You've been saying you're hot shit between the sheets for the past hour. If you were all that great, why aren't you down there right now getting phone numbers?"

"Did I hear you doubt the power of my pants?" Tony said, eyebrow raised.

"Ok, never say anything about 'power of pants' ever again, and we'll be good."

"And I'm not down there because those people just aren't worthy of my talents. I'd blow their minds way too easily."

"Uh huh," Clint said, taking another swig of his beer. "Sure. Whatever."

"Hey, I'll have you know that the rumors about me fall far short of reality," Tony said.

Maybe it was the beer, the bad TV, Tony's insufferable attitude, or just a perverse desire to poke until something happened. Clint blamed it on the beer later, just because it was convenient.

"Oh yeah? Prove it," Clint said.

Tony's face lit up with unholy joy, and Clint wondered what he'd gotten himself into.

"JARVIS just recorded that, so if you have any amendments to the fact that you just asked me to sex you up, speak now or forever hold your-."

"Prove it," Clint said again, sitting up to look straight at him in challenge.

"Yeah," Tony said, and the TV abruptly clicked off. He stepped closer and leaned over Clint, staring at him, eyes looking him up and down appreciatively. And slightly predatorily. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"You just gonna look?" Clint asked.

"For a start. Bedroom, now."

Tony didn't move, so Clint had to practically plaster himself up against him just to get off the couch. And he smelled... Clint found himself taking a deep, appreciative breath to get Tony's scent deep into his lungs. He smelled _good_ , some kind of really nice cologne-. Clint brought himself up short as Tony smiled at him, keeping eye contact as he got himself upright.

"What, you bathe in the essence of sex to soften people up?" Clint quipped.

"Don't need to. It's natural," Tony said.

"Bullshit."

Tony leaned in, those fucking eyes of his nailing Clint to the floor, and nuzzled the side of his face gently. He smelled even better up close, and Clint felt a faint stirring of interest.

“Nice, right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Clint managed, and strove not to look disappointed as Tony pulled away and tugged him towards the bedroom. The bed was… it was a work of art, nearly bigger than a studio apartment, or at least it seemed that way when Tony tumbled Clint onto it. Clint let himself be moved, rolling to his back as Tony crawled over him, straddling him and staring down at him. For a long minute it was just that, eye contact, and then Tony leaned forward and kissed him.

He was good at it, Clint had already figured that out from the endless parade of models in the gossip rags, but it wasn’t just the talented lips and tongue, or the fact that Tony had to be five degrees warmer than him, so his kisses felt like they were pouring heat into him. No, Tony was using his hands too, running the very tips of his fingers up and down Clint’s arms, across his hands, back up and under the sleeves of his shirt. It was nice, damn nice, but who did that when trying to prove how they could blow someone’s mind?

Tony seemed to read Clint’s mind, because the shirt vanished soon after (how the hell Tony managed that while not breaking off the kissing was something Clint vowed to learn later), and the caresses got lighter and more maddening. Tony’s hands swept across Clint’s shoulders and back down, running over every swell of muscle, every joint, awakening every inch of skin over and over again.

“I love this,” Tony murmured. “These are so damned nice.”

And yes, Clint was rather proud of the work he’d put into his body, thank you very much, and not immune to flattery, but that didn’t mean his arms and hands were erogenous zones. Except Tony was making them feel that way, and that shouldn’t be physically possible. 

Tony’s lips moved away from his lips, down to under his jaw, and then started sucking at the skin of his neck. Someone was moaning in the dim room, and Clint wanted to tell Stark to stop with the porn star noises and just get on with it some more. Except when he went to try to work up the coherency to speak, Clint realized _he_ was the author of the porn star moans. He abruptly shut his mouth, trapping the sound behind his lips as he arched into Tony’s touch.

Clint bit his lip, groaning as Tony licked down to his nipples, sucking and lightly scraping them with his teeth, one hand keeping up the relentless caress up and down Clint’s arm. With a faint growl, Tony tucked himself closer, and Clint felt a low-down warmth and hum in his stomach. A second later he realized it wasn’t all internal.

“Stark, you… _asshole_ ,” Clint gasped as he fisted the sheets. Tony was pressing the warm circle of the arc reactor into Clint’s belly, using the very device that was _keeping his heart going_ to send waves of heated vibration down through his core. “You _fucker_.”

“If you like,” Tony said, in a tone of voice that had probably been dubbed for use on literotica (and Clint wouldn’t put it past him), and slid lower on Clint’s body, smoothly managing to slide Clint's pants off of him in the process.

“Shit, shit-!” Clint turned away as Tony put those talented hands to use on his thighs, wanting to bury his face to hide him saying anything else that was probably going to come back to haunt him. Except he wanted to see what was going to happen next too badly. Clint looked up to see Tony’s dark head pull back so he could take a long, appreciative look at Clint’s erection. The warmth of his breath tickled the end, and suddenly his mouth descended and he took Clint down to the root in a single, smooth swallow.

“Jesus!” Clint swore, head going back into the mattress, eyes screwed shut tight. The tight, snug heat was too good, and Tony took mercy on him by pulling back slightly, lapping and teasing.

It was only after long minutes of watching Tony’s unwantedly attractive pink tongue dance over the skin of his cock that he realized there was a slick, wet touch sliding over his perineum, around his balls, and lightly grazing his hole. Clint twitched at that, and Tony’s mouth suddenly became lighter, more tentative. 

Clint thought about swearing again, but instead let his head drop and relaxed. Tony sucked firmly around his shaft as a slick finger penetrated him, sliding back and forth carefully, gliding up Clint’s inner walls until it found-.

Clint jumped as Tony pressed down slightly on his prostate, and was positive he made some high, broken sound as Tony took him deeper, in both sense of the word. His cock was deep in Tony’s mouth, and Tony’s fingers (there were two for a while, and then suddenly three) were delving inside him, unerringly stroking and tapping in a way to keep Clint writhing and pushing back against him. Tony suddenly pulled off Clint’s cock, but kept his fingers going, pumping in and out and apparently enjoying the show as Clint thrust at the air.

“What do you want, Barton?” Tony asked, leaning up enough to make the request sound brutally intimate. “Want to get off like this? Just my fingers inside you? I can do it, I can milk you dry just like this.”

“Tony…” Clint warned, fisting the sheets.

“Or I can suck you again, swallow you down. Every drop that you have would be mine.”

How the fuck was Tony expecting him to fucking _choose_ when all Clint could think about was the aching need to come?

“Or I can fuck you right here, make you see stars.” His voice dropped a half-octave, turning it into a purr, and Clint clenched hard on Tony’s relentless fingers.

“So you want the full experience?”

How could he sound so _calm_ with what he was doing? Clint dredged up the ability to nod from somewhere, and Tony nudged Clint’s legs farther apart. Clint managed to open his eyes (Tony was already naked somehow. And had gotten a condom on one-handed. At this point Clint was expecting a supernatural explanation.) as Tony withdrew his fingers to help Clint drape his legs over Tony’s shoulders. Gasping at the change of sensation, Clint managed to look down as Tony lined himself up. He hadn’t been using his Iron Man suit to compensate for anything, Clint noticed, but neither was he in porn star territory either. So far that was the only “normal” thing Clint had seen about Tony.

Then Tony moved, slick cock breeching Clint’s stretched hole, and Clint quickly revised his opinion. Because he thought _he_ had good aim, but he was willing to concede the title of master marksman when it came to the bedroom because Tony’s every. fucking. stroke. hit just where Clint needed it. Tony bent over him, hips moving with deliberate purpose, and Clint let himself be folded up and pounded. Tony’s hand twisted around his shoulder for more leverage, and suddenly fisted in his hair.

Shocked, Clint arched into the pull and came, his orgasm shattering him with blinding force. It hit with the force of a train, and Clint scrambled uselessly on the bed, probably looking like he was having a seizure, as Tony’s last few thrusts extended the burst of pleasure even more. With a last, sharp jerk of his hips, Clint could feel Tony’s heat burst inside him, making his spent cock twitch in sympathy.

Carefully, gently enough to not disturb the afterglow, Tony pulled out and laid Clint down, pressing a completely and utterly lewd kiss to his unprotesting mouth.

Clint just laid there for several minutes, trying to work up to the coherency of speech.

“Bu,” he managed finally. And felt proud of himself for that.

“So, not only do I live up to my own hype, sometimes I even surpass it,” Tony said, grinning in a way that should probably be outlawed.

“Ngh.”

“I’m going to put a temporary tattoo on your ass, ‘I’ve seen Stark naked.’”

Clint struggled to wave a finger in a way that was supposed to convey, _Put a tattoo on me, even temporary, and I will shoot you between the eyes._

“Trust me, you want the bragging rights. I know I do,” Tony said, looking unbearably smug.

Clint gave up the struggle to communicate. There was going to be no living with Tony for a month. The smugness radiated off of him in waves. No one would be able to be in the same room with him.

Unless they were naked. Clint figured he could live with that.


End file.
